Best-of compendium from mid-'90s indie should-have-beens

Career anthology that runs out of steam halfway through

Dolls man hooks up with MC5 guitarist in predictably volatile combination

All the 45s from the sublime Scottish duo who briefly threatened to become part of the '80s pop circus

Unsung '60s soul queen of New Orleans

Two albums by Boston-based duo who subsequently fell in with the Haight-Ashbury crowd

The '80s albums which made them the most successful duo in US chart history

In October 1992, Brazil's notorious São Paulo Detention Centre—aka Carandiru—erupted in a full-scale riot which left 111 inmates brutally slaughtered by trigger-happy military police. Director Hector Babenco's movie charts the events that led to the uprising, using the arrival, some 12 years earlier, of Drauzio Varella, a doctor employed by the authorities to quell the rapidly rising AIDS epidemic in the facility, as our entry point into the story of this hellish, overcrowded facility.

When her daughter's kidnapped by murderous types in this odd, grisly gothic western, frontierswoman Cate Blanchett saddles up and gives chase, accompanied by estranged father Tommy Lee Jones. A tiresomely grim offering from Ron Howard, whose fussy, pointlessly tricksy direction is a consistently irritating distraction. Very poor.

Johnny Cash is the criminal holding a banker's wife to ransom in this extraordinarily low-budget 1961 B-flick. Originally christened Door-To-Door Maniac, Cash is only too convincing as its eponymous gun-waving psycho, a-leerin' and a-sneerin' and even a-singin' the title tune. Look out, too, for an absurdly young Ron Happy Days Howard as the irksome brat who saves the day.